


Like This, With You

by a_bowl_of_peaches



Category: The Property of Hate
Genre: I Will Go Down With This Ship, Light Entertainment, M/M, Magnus wants to taste the rainbow, Trans Male Character, Trans RGB, because that's a thing that happened, pre-The Property of Hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:52:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_bowl_of_peaches/pseuds/a_bowl_of_peaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>RGB and Magnus negotiate and initiate the next step in their relationship.</p><p> </p><p>(Everyone go read "The Property of Hate" because it's beautiful artwork with amazing characters that I cry over on a daily basis.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like This, With You

**Author's Note:**

> This got so wonderfully out of hand. 0chromat, modmad, I’m so, so sorry for doing this to your babies. I took so many liberties, jfc.
> 
> RGB belongs to modmad and Magnus belongs to 0chromat.
> 
> Eleven pages of only the purest sin for my readers to enjoy.
> 
> Trans RGB because that’s a thing that happened. Also I used ‘monochrome’ to mean black and white instead of just any one color.  
> Magnus’s ability to see/perceive RGB came from the lovely fear3loathing on tumblr.
> 
> I don’t know I had fun writing this but I feel like I didn’t get either of them right, especially Magnus near the middle/end.
> 
> WARNINGS: very briefly mentioned past non-con

         “Have you done this before?”

         They were in the depths of the sanctuary, where only the strongest light managed to penetrate. The room was circular, framed with overflowing bookcases, a single window gazing out on the fountains, the sky, the birds. Before it stood a small table, set with two chairs. A clear teapot stood atop it, accompanied by two cups and a vase of gardenias and ranunculi. Next to it, a black leather journal and a fountain pen. A circular bed was set on the other side of the room, awash with light the color of clouds, its charcoal covers and ash sheets neatly folded, pale grey pillows unwrinkled.

         RGB had never been in this room before, with or without Magnus. All the others in the sanctuary opened for him now, but something about the door, half-hidden in shadows when the others were all well lit, had put him off. It was only after they had discussed the next step of their relationship that Magnus had unlocked it and ushered him inside.

         “Yes,” RGB replied. “With a few others.” _Sometimes willingly, other times not._ But that was a well-guarded secret, one of many, and as much as he trusted Magnus, he wasn’t ready to reveal it just yet.

         “Well, then I will do my best to keep up,” Magnus declared. He shed his greatcoat from his narrow shoulders, letting it crumple to the floor, and clapped his hands together. “Shall we proceed?”

         “…I think that’s the most business-like proposal I’ve ever heard.” RGB grinned, color line an effortless arc, all gentle teasing. He shucked off his blazer and picked up Magnus’s coat, making a show of folding them both as he sat on the mattress.

         Something about him perched, wild and timid as he was, on the edge of the bed like he felt comfortable there… Magnus gleamed, drifting forward and dropping to his knees before him, arms bridged across his thighs. RGB smiled and set their jackets aside, reaching out to cup the magician’s face.

         “Hello, my dear.”

         “Hello, RGB.” Magnus settled in his hands, reaching up to touch his knuckles. “Are you ready?”

         “More ready than I’ve ever been.” He climbed on the bed, making himself cozy among the pillows. Magnus watched him, with a tilted head and a small smile, before floating up to join him. He landed like a feather, one hand finding the mattress then his hips and feet, leaving him upright. RGB grinned and reached for him at the same time he moved forward.

         They couldn’t kiss but they had hands, touches, passion to share. RGB pulled the knot free on Magnus’s tie and glided his hands down the narrow torso to unbutton his vest and the shirt underneath it. The garments were tossed with the coats without being folded. The temptation of smooth black skin, the color of ebony and twice as silken, was too great to ignore.

         “Has anyone ever told you you’re perfect?” he wondered, tossing his gloves to the side and pressing his palm over the spot where the magician’s heart would be. “If not, I would be happy to be the first.” Magnus gave a faint laugh, hands seeking RGB’s shoulders. One suspender was eased from his shoulder, joined by its fellow. RGB slipped his arms free of them, letting them hang limp against the bed. His shirt was untucked with a brisk tug, the buttons undone by quick hands. He resisted the urge to hold the fabric closed, instead propping himself up on his elbows to watch Magnus unbutton his slacks.

         “I should probably keep those on,” he commented, but let Magnus hook his thumbs into his waistband and push the fabric down, lifting his hips and kicking the garment away. His legs left valleys in the blankets, his shirt outlining the upper portions of his thighs. He fought the urge to remain perfectly still, like prey hiding from a predator. Magnus knelt between his thighs, gazing down at him with an unnamable emotion before nuzzling into the crook of his neck and shoulder. His screen dimmed, his equivalent of hooding his nonexistent eyes. “You’ll have a rather hard time, I’m afraid.”

         “Oh, will I?” Magnus’s sigh gusted against his neck, or where his neck would have been.

         “Yes,” he drawled, doodling loops around Magnus’s spine, trailing his fingertips under the ridges of his shoulder blades. Every inch of him had to be mapped, cataloged, and squirreled away like treasure. One day, memories would be all RGB had of the magician, who… Who was laughing, like he knew the punch line to a joke. It made him bristle. “And what, pray tell, is so funny?”

         “You underestimate me and my knowledge of you.” Magnus’s palm slid down his chest and his stomach from his shoulder, thumb dipping over his navel in a show of playfulness. He huffed at the ticklishness, color line wrinkled in confusion. The hand continued, caressing the curve of his hip before- _!_

         A high, embarrassing sound left him, and he canted his hips into that smooth, perfect palm. The breath left him, replaced by heat, and he sought to catch it.

         “H… How?”

         “I see you.” Such a simple answer; it had to be a lie. RGB stiffened, only for the hand to retreat and pet over his stomach until he relaxed. “I’m not lying. I see you as I see light dance through the most perfect of glass. You shine, dear one.”

         “Hmph.”

         “You are not convinced?” Posed as a question, meant as a statement. RGB said nothing. Magnus had gotten very good at translating his silences. “May I convince you?”

         “…I suppose,” he hedged. Magnus made a pleased sound, nuzzling his shoulder again. His shirt was pushed off his body and laid to the side, just within reach. His breathing caught and squirmed, aware he appeared as nothing more than a floating television.

         “On your stomach for me, if you please.” After a brief pause, he did as he was instructed, tucking his arms against his chest. It was only a matter of keeping his knees a little bent to give Magnus the access he needed, his clever hand traveling around his waist and down his front to reach between his spread legs once more.

         Those long fingers caressed him, jolts of pleasure making his toes twitch and his fingers clutch at the sheets. They centered on perhaps the most sensitive and typically difficult to find part of his body, teasing ruthlessly.

         Goodness, at this rate he wasn’t going last long _at all._ Thoughts of guiding Magnus through this ancient dance faded as the magician assumed the lead like he so often did.

         “Your toes are curling,” the prism-head observed. Something lanced through RGB, icy but then melting at the intensity of his gratification. Had he been in his right mind, he would have called it a realization. As it were, he gripped at the pillows, desperate for something to anchor him. “And I quiet like the way you breathe.” A cool hand cupped his ribs, follow the path of each bone, lifting at the end to find the beginning of the next without error or hesitation.

         RGB wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about being seen. It was somewhere between wonder and terror, relief and horror at being unprotected.

         “You’re spoiling me,” he gasped instead of voicing his turmoil, hips giving a little buck. The prism-head let out a deep, harmonic hum, too smooth to be a purr.

         “You deserve to be spoiled. I’m very much enjoying it.” Before he could argue, those talented fingers had slipped lower, stealing away his ability to speak like they would vanish a coin. He dropped his head into his hands, quaking. This was too much, much too much. A whine escaped him, edged with white noise.

         “You said you had no _idea,”_ he choked. He yelled out when the magician dipped inside him, testing and curious, before sinking in to the knuckle. He drew back out slowly and plunged back in, confident.

         “I said I had no experience,” Magnus returned. There was a focused edge to his voice, half delight and half concentration. “If I had no idea, I never would have asked you.”

         “Magnus!” It was the only word left to him. The magician moved deeper, thumb rubbing circles outside him. “Magnus _…!”_

         “Are you supposed to be so wet?” The fingers stretched and curled with an obscene sound, wrenching a broken moan from him.

         “I-It happens when…” If he had eyes, they would be crossing. “When you seek fit to torment me,” he gritted out, dropping his hands and lifting his head. A skillful press had him crumbling, begging, “Oh, there, _there_ , please there.”

         “Have you done this to yourself?” Magnus wondered, indulging him, circling that spot with his fingertips. His screen fizzled, every limb shaking, and he could only nod. There was a light behind him and he knew the magician was grinning. “Do you think of me?”

         _“Y… Yes,”_ he groaned. One of his filthiest secrets laid bare. He wanted to snatch it back, stuff it away, but Magnus ground against his thigh, making a sound like crystal traced by a fingertip. The purity, the beauty of it had him pressing back, wanting to be closer to this perfect being even if it he would taint him. His screen flickered, his self-hatred almost over-powering him, and his selfishness reared.

         “Magnus, I…” He swallowed. “I’m close…”

         “Yes.” Magnus’s voice deepened, layered but retained a breathless quality. “Yes, dear one, come undone for me.” The fingers quickened, their twins on the magician’s other hand stroking across his chest, trailing across matching scars, mementos from his previous life. It was like they knew they were there. And he did know- he had more than proven that. “I want to watch you fall apart.”

         RGB trembled, fighting the inevitable end, prolonging his own agony out of terror. He couldn’t fall apart, no, it was too risky, much too risky. No one would catch him; he _knew_. He had fallen at the request of others and fallen alone, meeting an end too painful to be worth the pleasure.

         But he did as he was behest and fell.

         For a moment, every inch of his skin was electrified. He was saturated in color, each one more vivid than the next, and it taxed him like it never had before. Then it all faded and everything was black and white and threads of grey, like static, and he collapsed beneath Magnus with a cry. His vents wheezed, sparks jumping between his antennae, and his colors split and mixed into a new rainbow of hues before righting themselves. First yellow, then red and magenta, and at last green and cyan. He wiped at them with a shaky hand, smearing shades of mint and golden orange and teal from knuckle to forearm, painting his own skin into visibility.

         “Beautiful,” Magnus murmured, drawing his hand free once the telly-head had stopped clenching. His slim fingers were coated in purple, ranging from royal indigo to pastel lavender.

         “S… Sorry,” RGB panted, feeling a similar slickness along the insides of his thighs, a sensation he had almost forgotten.

         “Don’t be.” Magnus slipped off him, laying on his side and drawing him to his chest. He continued to admire the colors dirtying his hand, watching them drip down his palm. “Are they always like this?”

         “They change. I don’t really bother to pay attention to it unless it’s monochrome.” RGB turned on his side to watch him, pulling his legs closer to his body. He felt open but not exposed, a welcome change from the norm. “Would you stop staring at it?” he demanded, but the sharpness of his voice was dull, blunted by the pleasure still weaving through him.

         “It’s beautiful,” Magnus repeated, but he reached for his handkerchief and dutifully wiped his hand clean. “You’re beautiful.”

         “…Thank you.” He shifted, gaze roaming the room before settling on Magnus once more. “You, though, you were fantastic.” He bumped the top of his screen to the magician’s shoulder. “Let me return the favor?”

         “Aren’t you tired?”

         “Oh, please.” He pushed a leg between the magician’s and bent his knee. Magnus stilled at the pressure between his hips, giving an involuntary grind. RGB grinned. “I have more than enough energy to reciprocate, dearest.”

         “…Very well.” Magnus shifted again, resting a hand on his chest. RGB stroked a delicate wrist with his thumb, trailing his fingers up to an elbow. “I…” The magician hunched in on himself. “I don’t remember what…” He fumbled and fell silent. RGB had almost forgotten how uncertain he was about his body, this form. It was so much newer to him.

         “Do you want me to just go ahead with it?” The magician nodded, perhaps with more eagerness than he would have liked to show. RGB smiled and dropped his hands to the front of his pants, popping the button free. Magnus exhaled and he paused. “You know you can tell me to stop.”

         “I know.” He chuckled at the brief answer. “But please don’t.”

         “As you wish.” The zipper was next, gliding open, the fabric parting easily. Magnus pulled them off and threw them to the side. RGB didn’t bother reproaching him for not folding them, too busy admiring the ebony black of the magician’s lean body. The prism-head turned back to RGB, weight balanced on one arm.

         “I said it before and I will say it again, my dear,” the telly-head purred, skimming his fingers along Magnus’s waist. “You are perfect.” He lifted a hand. “May I?”

         “Touch me as you see fit. I am yours.” RGB pretended to not have heard him, to not have felt his entire person twinge in delight at such a pledge. He pressed his color line to the magician’s shoulder, smearing some of his color across Magnus’s skin, a poor facsimile of a kiss. Still, the sight of _his_ green and _his_ yellow slathered across the other was enough to make his desire flare. He did it again, lower on his chest, and a third time, on his stomach. He curled his fingers around a knee and dragged them up to where a long leg met a thin torso, petting the spot where they connected. His other hand came up, and he wrapped his fingers around the magician’s hardness and gave it a single, slow pump.

         Magnus jumped. He stopped, releasing him.

         “Is it too much?”

         “No, just… unexpected.” The magician squirmed a bit. A bead of liquid, clear yet opalescent, dripped from his length. “I did not expect to be so… reactive to your touch.” He glanced to RGB, head tilted. “You may continue if you wish. I’ll try to control myself.”

         “Oh, but I don’t want to see you control yourself, dearest.” The telly-head stroked him with a single finger, teasing lines down the sensitive underside of his length. Magnus gasped, prism flaring. RGB grinned and took him completely in his hand. Another gasp when his thumb ran over his head, spreading the opalescent liquid and using it to help his hand glide without effort.

         “RGB,” Magnus panted. One of his hands fell to the elder monster’s shoulder, squeezing. “RGB, that…”

         “Yes?” He pumped him from base to tip and back down, careful and slow. Magnus didn’t crumble so much as crack, his composure falling away in pieces.

         “Please, RGB, this is torture.”

         “The medicine is bitter indeed,” he retorted, smirking. The magician groaned. “But I am not quite so cruel.” He sped up his rhythm without warning. “Or perhaps I am.”

         _“RGB!”_ Oh, what a lovely sound. He twisted his wrist just a little, reproducing the keen. The opalescent liquid started to drip down his fingers in a thicker stream, shimmering over his skin like molten crystal. How he wished to taste it, to taste Magnus, to bring him greater pleasure with a tongue and lips. But it was impossible, so he settled for what he could manage, pressing the line of his colors to the magician’s length and grinning at the resulting splash of cyan and magenta over ebony skin. They blended into prismatic lilac, glints of rainbow showing through.

         “St… St…” Magnus’s head lolled back, his grip stuttering on his shoulder. “Stop,” he begged. RGB froze and withdrew his hand, climbing back up the magician’s body to peer into his prism with no small amount of anxiety.

         “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He could forgive many of the things he had done, but hurting Magnus was not one of them.

         “No, no, dear one,” the prism-head soothed, laying a hand on his arm. “No, it was wonderful. Beyond wonderful. I just…” He glanced to the side. RGB turned his gaze back to him.

         “Tell me what you want,” he entreated. “You know I can’t deny you, dearest.” Magnus smiled, tiny and shy.

         “Can I…” He flickered with rosy light but didn’t look away. “Can I take you?” RGB chuckled.

         “And here I thought you’d never ask.” He touched their heads together. “Yes.” The magician hummed and moved away, kneeling between his spread legs. RGB rearranged the pillows so they were out of the way, sneaking one under his hips to set them at a better angle.

         “Will I hurt you?” Magnus wondered, setting a hand on his thigh.

         “Most likely not. You were very diligent in preparing me.” RGB tilted his head, considering. “I’m a tad sensitive though, so there’s a slight possibility,” he admitted. “If it hurts beyond what I can handle, I’ll tell you.” His pain tolerance was more than high enough to handle the discomfort if it came to it. The magician’s pleasure came first in this regard. This was a time for exploration, not boundaries.

         “Will you peak again?” Magnus asked, bracing his hands on either side of his head. He almost wanted to laugh at such an innocent description of what had been a complete destruction and reconstruction of his metaphysical being.

         “There’s a chance of it, yes.”

         “Good.” Light bent through Magnus’s prism, and RGB couldn’t help but return the expression.

         “Ready?” Magnus nodded, and he reached between them to take him once more, using the fingers of his other hand to hold himself open. The magician shuddered when he guided him to his still wet colors, helping him ease in, another crystalline note escaping him. RGB pressed his hip, coaxing him forward until he was sheathed inside him.

         Oh, it had been too long. He was so unused to being so full of a lover it was almost new. He shuddered and knew Magnus felt it. The magician held himself with perfect stillness, an undisturbed pond. The only source of his movement was the light writhing inside his prism.

         Trepidation crept across RGB’s skin like a Fear stalking through tall grass. He leaned up, nuzzling Magnus’s shoulder. No reaction aside for a slight sag to one side. He pulled back, disappointed in himself.

         “…I’ve done this all wrong,” he murmured to himself. He sighed and reached up to ghost his fingertips over the dazzling prism. Without him noticing, the light condensed into a hard knot…

         And then exploded like a star.

         Magnus surged forward, pressing them chest-to-chest, his prism centimeters away from RGB’s screen. If he had been full before, he was bursting now, his knee hooking around Magnus’s hip. Each breath was a risk, a gamble to see whether or not he would fly apart at the seams because the prism-head was inside him, pressing against every part of his center, stretching him and taking every space and _i-it wa-s so go-od to-o go-od_. He fizzled, a brief warning darting across his screen before vanishing.

         _“No.”_ Magnus’s voice reverberated through the air, through his body. As if that one motion had broken whatever bonds held him back, the magician rolled his hips forward. Frisson rocketed across RGB’s spine, forking into his fingers and toes. He shouted what might have been Magnus’s name, his voice glitching at the overload. He raked his nails down the magician’s back, grasping at him in desperation. The torrid storm continued with more power than he would have imagined possible, their bodies rocking in tandem.

         “Magnus, Magnus, Magnus,” he chanted. He had to find his footing, had to find some semblance of poise and control. The magician was providing the rhythm, he just had to match the steps…. Time must have been vindictive today because he could feel the seconds and minutes passing in a rush. His awareness of them was measured only by the thrust of the prism-head’s hips.

         “Everything you have done has been _right,”_ Magnus breathed, recapturing his attention. “It’s glorious, everything, it’s so much to take in. The way you sound when you cry out, the way you move when I touch you, the way you _feel wrapped around me.”_ His voice dropped again, like the toll of a bell. “If I could smell you, I would. If I could taste you, I would _devour you.”_ RGB’s chest heaved as he panted, his nails dragging new lines. His antennae sparked, color trickling to run stripes down his neck and collarbones. His vents whirred.

         The possibility of him climaxing again was quickly becoming a reality.

         After several long minutes of biting down whimpers and pleading with as much dignity he could muster, he felt Magnus falter. The magician broke his rhythm and finally stopped with their hips pressed together, head bowed. The light there flickered desperately, bright then blinding, like a bird trapped in a cage.

         “Magnus?” RGB rubbed the magician’s slender shoulders, frowning. “Talk to me.”

         “It… It’s so much, RGB!” His voice was almost a sob, humming through the air like an overworked machine. The vibrations traveled up RGB’s spine, quivering over every nerve from his toes to his antennae. “It’s so much… I can’t… it… _!”_ He shuddered all over, spent, drowning in the onslaught of sensations, unable to process one before the next three were vying for his attention.

         “I’m here. I have you,” he soothed. Magnus trembled, glass on the verge of shattering. RGB stroked one of the planes of his head, thumb pressing at the edge where they met. “What do you need?”

         “You.” The answer came out distorted but clear enough. Magnus pushed into his palm, prism glittering. “Please, RGB, I need you. Just you, always you. _Please.”_

         He was perfect, and RGB had never wished harder for a mouth to kiss him with.

         “Well, since you asked so nicely.” He took Magnus’s hand, lacing their fingers together, and rolled them over without ever breaking their connection. He deepened it, sitting in the magician’s lap, his free hand on his chest for leverage. “You can have me.”

         “Yes, please, yes,” Magnus panted. The light from his prism was shifting, refracting into new shapes, new intensities, like a tempest. “RGB!”

         “Go on then,” he breathed, rolling his hips. Magnus’s hand fluttered along his torso and he caught it, pressing it to his heart. His balance was more than enough to keep him steady. “You let me fall, and you caught me.” He brought the magician’s other hand to where his cheek would have been. “I swear I’ll catch you, dearest. Let me take care of you.”

         “RGB,” Magnus whispered. His prism misted a little at the edges, the light dancing faster. “My dear one…”

         RGB watched him with hunger, the rest of the room dissolving into grey. He was going to faint at this rate, screen fringed by static, head spinning, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was the beautiful monster splintering beneath him. He moaned, bending down to touch their heads together, indifferent to the scratches he was inflicting on himself.

         Yes. Just a little more…. He crested his pleasure for a second time, a rush of sunset color gushing from where they were connected. He used it, taking Magnus to the hilt and squeezing his hands as tightly as he dared.

         There was the sensation of a taut thread snapping, and then Magnus arched like a bow, a ringing cry escaping him. The light in his prism broke free, a burst of shining brilliance, fading into rainbows as it dimmed. His whole body throbbed and RGB felt the echo inside him, a surge of heat and power and light and _Magnus_. The magician shuddered and went limp, chest heaving with his breaths. RGB watched him, feeling like he had intruded on something intensely private, twitching a little at the pulsing inside him, like a heartbeat. It had been years since he had felt a true heartbeat.

         Magnus reached for him, pulling him down to hold him, drawing him into a state of shared intimacy. His screen dimmed again and he made a soft sound, feeling liquid leak between their spent bodies.

         “My dear, sweet Magnus,” he breathed. “You are magnificent.”

         “As are you.” The magician sounded wrecked, but there was something like pride and awe in his tone. “Can we stay like this for a moment?” he requested, hand rubbing across RGB’s back. “Please?”

         “Of course.” The telly-head adjusted his posture to better support his weight, careful not to shift his hips anymore than necessary. “Let me know when you’re ready to move.”

         Magnus mumbled in reply, head thumping back against the pillows. He looked debauched under the elder monster, his skin streaked with a myriad of color, prism glistening. Scratches from RGB’s blunt nails lined his shoulders, a hint to what existed at his back. RGB debated berating himself for soiling his partner, but Magnus, like this, only seemed more perfect, more untouchable. His taint was his own.

         For that, he would be grateful.

         “RGB?” Magnus spoke like he had been trying to get his attention for several moments, pitch of his voice caught between almost impatient and a touch concerned.

         “Hmm?”

         “You can move, if you wish.”

         “Apologies, my dear.” Gingerly, he lifted his hips but couldn’t prevent them both from gasping at the hot slide of flesh on flesh as they parted. He swung one leg over Magnus, arranging himself on one side of the magician to inspect their handiwork.

         Magnus’s lap was stained in shades of crimson, deep rose, and fire orange, iridescent where a few drops of his spill had mixed. RGB grimaced, noting the purple mixed among the reds.

         “Sorry,” he tsked. He reached for the used handkerchief again, swiping it carefully over the magician before using it to clean himself with much less deference. The apex of his thighs was violet now, joined by the new pinks and oranges. He dripped a little bit of shimmering opal, though most of it remained within him, slicking his insides with a tingling sort of warmth.

         It was not an unpleasant sensation, to be sure.

         “That is the third time you’ve apologized for nothing,” Magnus observed when he laid down next to him. “Though if you feel the need for atonement…” He dipped his index finger into the remaining magenta on his stomach and traced a heart over RGB’s chest. “There.” RGB laughed, a helpless, joyful sound.

         “You’re impossible,” he chuckled, tossing the cloth to the side without wiping it away. Magnus grinned, all white light and rainbows, the picture of lucidity once again.

         “You love me.”

         He didn’t respond, not verbally anyway. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Magnus’s neck, favoring him with his gentlest, most tender smile and hoping his actions were enough to make up for not answering. The magician hummed, leaning down to rest their heads together.

         “I love you too.” The resonance of his voice trembled over his skin like ripples on water, traveling straight to the core of his being. They remained like that for a moment, basking in each other. RGB knew it would end at some point or another, but-.

         ‘ _Everything is finite. Even this. Even him. Even you,’_ something whispered in the back of his thoughts. He shoved it away with a shiver. Magnus’s hands lingered on his back, tracing random shapes that may have been wings, and he focused on the soothing touches.

         “I am utterly knackered. Congratulations, you have exhausted me,” he sighed. The magician chuckled.

         “Forgive me for not apologizing, dear one,” he teased, reaching for the blankets. RGB seized a sheet, wrapping it around himself, relieved to see the lines of his body beneath the fabric. He tucked it skintight around his legs, his hips and waist, his shoulders, and laid down, nestling as close to Magnus as physics would allow. It wasn’t close enough but he would make do. A slim arm wrapped around him, the other drawing the covers around their cooling bodies. A hand stole beneath the blankets to splay over his back again, resuming its tracing.

         “That is an experience I would very much like to repeat,” the magician informed him. “Frequently.” RGB chuckled, tilting his head to rest against Magnus’s chest.

         “On that, dearest, we are in agreement.”


End file.
